


The Italian Restaurant Caper

by hardboiledbaby



Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: Dialogue-Only, Episode Tag, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-17 17:48:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28729140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hardboiledbaby/pseuds/hardboiledbaby
Summary: Sam and Effie are having a conversation.For Curlew, because I like to pay my debts 😉This was intended to be a drabble, sparked by the dreich weather in the UK, but got a little carried away with itself. So... a quadrabble?
Relationships: Ken Hutchinson & David Starsky
Comments: 8
Kudos: 24





	The Italian Restaurant Caper

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Curlew](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Curlew/gifts).



"It was a dark and stormy night."

"No."

"Why not?"

"I am not writing a report that sounds like something out of one of your ham-fisted, hard-boiled pulp magazines."

"Hey, if it's good enough for Snoopy, it's good enough for Dobey."

"I said no, Starsky."

"Besides, you're not writing it, I am. You're just my secretary. So make like a good Girl Friday and take this down, will you? I'd do it myself, but—"

"Okay, okay. Fine."

"From the top, Effie: It was a dark and stormy night."

"Yeah, yeah, got it."

"Suddenly, a shot rang out."

"Starsky."

"I was hit."

"Damn it—"

"But Detective Sergeant Kenneth Hutchinson, he saved the day. He took down the two Syndicate hitmen who were there to assassinate mob boss Vic Monte. He did so while protecting the hostages, showing uncommon valor—"

"Knock it off! I've had enough."

"Aw, wait. Come back, Hutch. C'mon, don't make me chase you."

"You can't, anyway."

"The hell I can't. Got shot in the back, not in the leg."

"Don't! Stay in the bed, you—"

"I will if you will. Right here, sit next to me. That's better."

"Why are you doing this?"

"What? Just making my eyewitness report, like Dobey asked."

"No, why are you trying to make me out to be the hero?"

"'Cause you are, buddy."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are. And stop looking like that."

"Like what?"

"Sad, like you..."

"Like I lost my best friend? Well, I almost did."

"Don't be stupid, I'm right here."

"Yeah."

"Oh, come on. It ain't your fault I got shot."

"I know, but—"

"No buts about it. We were only there because I wanted Italian, remember?"

"I know."

"So if anything, it's my fault I got shot."

"Now who's being stupid?"

"Just following that train of thought to its logical conclusion."

"You and logic have never been on the same train together, pal."

"Oh, now you're just being mean."

"Sorry."

"Wow, an apology? I must be worse off than I thought."

"Fuck off."

"That's better. So can we finish that report now?"

"I'm not writing down any more of your purple prose and hyperbolic narrative. Just the facts, Starsky."

"Fine. Here's the big one, the only one that matters: You got us out of there alive. Okay?"

"...Yeah, okay."

"Good. Period, end of report."

"Alright, mushbrain. I better get going. See you tomorrow."

"Good night, schweetheart."

**Author's Note:**

> For the record, the episode in question is _Shootout_. Starsky is channeling the radio version of Sam Spade, voiced forever in my ears by Howard Duff.
> 
> Flashfic, unbeta'd and written way past my bedtime. I don't have an Effie to type things up for me, so pardon any errors.


End file.
